


it just feels twice as far

by dressedupasmyself



Series: Somewhere Only We Know [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunken Kissing, Homesick, M/M, romania - Freeform, sad boys kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 05:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19419610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dressedupasmyself/pseuds/dressedupasmyself
Summary: Romania is too far away for Harry's liking, but at least he has a Weasley to keep him company.





	it just feels twice as far

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "Fake you out" by Twenty One Pilots.

_I'll never be, be what you see inside_  
_You say I'm not alone, but I am petrified_  
_You say that you are close, is close the closest star?_  
_You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far_

***

“Oh, Harold!”

Harry rolled his eyes at the sing-song of Charlie’s voice outside his door. He put down the glass he was cleaning and shook his hands to get rid of the excess bubbles. He crossed the small space from the sink to the front door in two long strides and threw open the door.

Charlie was standing there, decked in his full leather dragon-tending paraphernalia and flicking through a stack of mail. He looked very refreshed, especially considering it was barely dawn and the entire Romanian landscape still had a faint orange sheen to it.

“Why must you always insist on making so much noise so very early in the morning?” Harry asked jokingly. It has been three months since he’d first arrived, so he wasn’t really phased anymore. He’d come to expect and appreciate the early wake-up call. Never in his life would he have believed anybody who told him that he was in fact a morning person.

Charlie grinned in the charming, toothy way that he had.

“I brought you some mail,” Charlie chirped, holding up a thick white envelope. “You never told me you had friends other than me, and I’m feeling quite jealous.”

Harry sighed fondly. “You’re ridiculous. Are you coming in or not?” He opened the door a bit wider and Charlie stepped in. Harry didn’t bother moving out of the way, and Charlie brushed against him as he passed. He shot Harry a knowing wink and made himself at home at the kitchen table.

Harry grabbed the thick letter from Charlie’s hand and leaned against the countertop as he unfolded it carefully.

His smile widened as he read, and then started to taper off towards the end of the scribbled words. By the time he’d finished, he was left with a tender feeling in his chest and a lump in his throat.

Fuck, but he missed his family.

“What’s up with them?” Charlie asked, trying to feign casual. Harry saw right through his bullshit, but let it slide.

Harry knew from previous late-night conversations out in the hills with a bottle of rum passed between them that Charlie never used to get homesick much. He was fiercely independent and liked that his living situation allowed him so much freedom. After the war and the battle and losing his brother, though, things had been a bit tougher to deal with.

Harry was man enough to admit that he would not be at all strong enough to truly move to the other side of the world for any significant amount of time. He had only lasted a pitiful month before he caved and went down to the post office so he could fire call Hogwarts. Since then, being away from the people he loved had not gotten any easier.

Harry suspected that most of his burning desire to see them all had to with wanting to feel them solid and warm under his hands, just to check for himself that they were all still, in fact, alive and breathing.

“Er, it was mostly Malfoy writing to boast about some new potion he’d invented that’s apparently going to revolutionise magical tattoos,” Harry explained, carefully refolding the letter to place it back in the envelope. He was without a doubt going to come back to it after Charlie had left to obsess over every word and every line until he’d memorised it.

“I shudder to think what he plans to do with it, if his history with creative projects is anything to go by.” Harry thought of the awful “Potter Stinks” badges and smiled despite himself. “Also, Ginny’s okay. Ron seems fed up with Hermione trying to micromanage his school work. Hermione is very excited about some meeting she has with Kingsley regarding a job for her in the ministry once she leaves Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” Charlie muttered. He chewed on his lip and stared out of the window. Harry wondered if he was also missing them as fiercely as he was. “Are you still planning on going back in July?”

Harry’s heart skipped at the thought of going home.

“Yeah, I don’t think I was really cut out for the whole running away thing.” He tossed the letter in his empty bread bin, where the rest of them were already hidden. “I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy.”

Charlie smirked and seemed to pull himself out of his head. “That’s what he said.”

Harry groaned, but was relieved for the ease in tension. “You’re such a perv.”

Charlie laughed and pushed himself away from the table. “Are you coming to help me out, or not?”

Harry pulled the plug from the sink, leaving the last few dirty dishes for later. He had more important things to do, after all.

***

The next few months passed in a bit of a blur. Harry embraced his routine with open arms, letting himself get carried away by the easy distraction that came with physical labour.

Charlie would show up at his cottage just after dawn, sometimes smiling and sometimes barking orders in a way that made it clear that Harry was not to argue with him today. On days like that, Harry could usually count on finding Charlie outside, sitting on a big boulder and cradling a bottle of some alcohol or the other. He’d join him without asking for permission, and Charlie would scoot closer than was normally acceptable.

Harry liked Charlie. He appreciated his casual candour and the playful glint he sometimes got in his eye. Mainly, though, Harry like his ginger hair and his unpredictability and the way he reminded him of home.

That is why Harry never moved away when Charlie initiated contact. He suspected that he provided the same comfort to Charlie, who struggled with deciding how to make up for the guilt he felt for being away from his family for so long.

The first time they kissed was another one of those nights. They’d been passing a bottle of cheap gin between them. One of Charlie’s friends’ brother was into home-brewing and always gave Charlie discounts in the vain hope that Charlie would give him a second look. Harry was feeling particularly homesick after receiving a photograph of Malfoy and Neville trying to levitate a large Christmas tree through their front door while Luna seemed to cling to various parts of their bodies to try and stop them.

They were all smiling, even though Malfoy was trying to frown as if annoyed at being covered in pine needles. Harry longed to have been the one to take the photograph instead of Ginny, who’d captioned it with a simple “Who the fuck still has a Christmas tree in February? Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Charlie had moved closer to him again that night, and Harry had allowed himself to splay his hand over Charlie’s when he took the half-empty bottle from him. Charlie hadn’t pulled away.

“I’m fucking lonely,” Charlie admitted. His voice was slurred, but Harry was certain that he wasn’t at all more sober himself.

“I miss them,” Harry had whispered back. “I wish I was drinking Luna’s shitty tea and fighting with Malfoy over who gets to sit on the good couch.”

“I can’t give that to you,” Charlie had solemnly said. “But maybe we both need a distraction.”

He’d taken the bottle from Harry and placed it carefully on the ground next to them. Then he reached up, sliding his hands through Harry’s ever-growing curls and pulled him in.

Charlie’s lips were cold and chapped, but they moved hotly against Harry’s in a way that made him groan. It had been too long since he’d been with somebody like that, since he’d been allowed to slide his own hands along somebody else’s back in an attempt to pull them closer.

They hadn’t bothered with going inside. They were both too far gone to bother with anything more than messy handjobs under their robes. Harry had the feeling that doing anything more would shatter their fragile arrangement and make things weird.

In the weeks after, things changed slightly between them. They still followed their same routine, but they found excuses to touch, to be close. Instead of drinking outside, they sat on Harry’s couch and shared a bowl of popcorn, letting their fingers brush in the bowl.

Eventually, one of them would lean closer, and then they’d kiss and grope on the couch until Charlie inevitably excused himself. Harry was fine with the arrangement. He wasn’t looking for commitment, and Charlie was marvellously skilled with his tongue.

Things changed again the night before Harry was supposed to catch his portkey home. He’d stuffed his few possessions into a bag and was staring out the window, trying to figure out the jumbled bunch of emotions swirling inside him.

With how homesick he’d been the entire year, he’d expected to be nothing but ecstatic to go back. Now that the time had arrived, he felt slightly apprehensive. He knew he’d changed in the year he’d been gone. He was sure his friends had too, and he wasn’t sure how that would change things once he got back.

Ron had finally proposed to Hermione, so he was absolutely not going to crash on their couch. He might give Luna’s a go until he figured out a permanent place to stay, but with how crowded her house already was, he knew that he couldn’t stay there very long either. He was sure that Molly would take him in without a second thought, but he remembered her eggshell like behaviour and found himself unwilling to deal with that.

His thoughts had just started in on the disconcerting territory of what he would do all day once he’d settled in wherever it was he would end up staying. He still didn’t want to be an auror, but he wasn’t exactly skilled at much else. It made his head ache, and was glad for the distraction of the knock on his door.

Charlie looked slightly haunted when Harry opened the door. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and he had a slightly manic expression on his face. His eyes were wide and somewhat glassy. He didn’t bother saying anything, only stepping up into Harry’s space and sinking into his willing mouth.

Harry pulled Charlie to him. He thought that he might miss this. He’d really grown fond of the second oldest Weasley. They were both equally fucked up, and neither of them felt any need to try to fix each other.

“Wait,” Charlie had stopped him with a hand to his chest when Harry tried to steer them to their normal spot on the couch. “Bed? Please?”

Harry shrugged, not really caring. “Alright.”

They made their way to his bedroom, and Charlie’s tongue was tangling filthily with his as he pushed him back into the mattress.

“Fuck,” Charlie groaned as he moved to bite angry little marks into Harry’s neck. “What am I going to do without you?”

Harry paused, pulling away so he could see Charlie’s face. “Hey, are you okay?”

Charlie shook his head. “Yeah, fine, leave it, just-“ He went back to kissing Harry. His hands drifted down to unfasten Harry’s belt, and that was the end of their discussion for the evening.

***

Harry woke up alone the next morning, but he didn’t think anything of it. He was just in time for his portkey, an empty plastic cylinder that might have once been a glue stick. He didn’t see Charlie before he left, but they’d had their goodbye.

It was time for his little escape to end. He had to get his life back on track.


End file.
